Tastes Like Victory
by Miss Bright
Summary: He shot one glance at the counter, ignoring Matsuda completely, and declared in a smooth baritone, "I'll take all the chocolate you've got." Crack; for Mello and Matsuda's birthdays.


**A/N: This is a little lighthearted, crack-ish tribute to both Mello and Matsuda, whose birthdays are today and tomorrow, respectively. Enjoy :)!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.**

**Note: This fic takes place December 2009, the second-last month of the Kira investigation.**

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**Tastes Like Victory**

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_Green tea?_

No, it reminded him way too much of a former – _dead_ – colleague of his. Granted, everything related to sweets did, but…

His hungry gaze slid to the side.

_Strawberry?_

Not that either; it was Misa-Misa's favorite, not his.

_Definitely not apple_.

Touta Matsuda's mouth twitched into a grimace. Ryuk would probably gobble it up the second he returned to headquarters. Who knew Shinigami could be such pigs?

The young cop skipped over the coffee cakes entirely and paused in front of the chocolate Swiss roll. It was nearly midnight, just minutes from the shop's closing time. Matsuda quickly made up his mind.

"I'll have that one," said Matsuda, pointing eagerly at the sole roll cake.

"Not so fast."

The small establishment was suddenly filled with an icy blast of wind; the door had swung open, setting off the overhead wind chimes. A bespectacled auburn-haired man stepped in and slowly ground his snowy boots into the welcome mat. He shot one glance at the counter, ignoring Matsuda completely, and declared in a smooth baritone, "I'll take all the chocolate you've got."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Matsuda was impressed by the foreigner's audacity. "Excuse me?" the detective interrupted, shifting closer to the glass display in a protective manner. "I…I was here first. Sorry."

The redheaded kid smiled patiently. "I'll pay double of whatever's on the price tag," he continued in perfect Japanese. There was a hard edge to his voice. "Please, sir, step aside."

Matsuda's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. This _teenager _was trying to boss him around. Him! Matsuda!

_No _one bossed _him _around.

Starting now, anyway.

In the blink of an eye, Matsuda whipped out his trusty pistol. The cashier shrieked and promptly fainted.

The younger man's eyes widened behind his goggles. "Come on, give me a break! Since when were the Japanese allowed to carry around such big guns?"

"Since you threatened to steal my birthday cake!" Matsuda shouted at the top of his lungs. "I'm turning thirty-fucking-one tomorrow, and all I want is my cake. So back off!"

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Matt's face was a mask of nonchalance and serenity, but inside, his heart was beating like a rabbit's. What were the chances of running into _Touta Matsuda, _of all people, here, tonight?

He should've known better than to buy Mello a gift at the last minute. But then again, he had almost forgotten about it until an hour ago, when the feisty chocoholic "accidentally" flushed all of Matt's cigarettes down the toilet.

"Calm down," he said as soothingly as possible. The two men began to circle around each other like panthers.

Sweat ran down the Japanese cop's face in tiny rivulets. "Don't tell me what to do," the boyish man seethed. The gun trembled in his hands.

Matt groaned. _Great, another guy with something to prove_...

"You aren't going to shoo – "

The air exploded with the rapid _tat-tat-tat _sounds of gunfire.

Matt yelped and dove for cover as bullets pierced the cake display behind him, sending specks of glass and chocolate frosting spraying in different directions.

"Hey, hey!"

Matt uncurled himself from the splattered tiles and hopped to his feet. His jaw dropped when he saw that the coveted Swiss roll had become, well, Swiss cheese.

Touta Matsuda was breathing hard. "If I can't have it, no one can." He giggled triumphantly and tucked the pistol away.

"Fine," Matt gasped. He pointed at the remaining desserts. Miraculously, they were still all in perfect condition. This Matsuda dude was obviously an excellent marksman. "Coffee?"

The cop nodded. "Coffee," he agreed.

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It was strange how compromise tasted so much like victory.

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**A/N: That was my first attempt at crack. Even now, I'm like OMG…WTF, WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS THAT? Oh well. It was essentially a Matsuda/Matt fic, but I labeled it as Mello/Matsuda since their birthdays take precedence.**

**Some lines were taken from Volume 12. **

**Hope you liked it ^_^ **


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